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iota is a quarterly selection of contemporary poetry. British poets have contributed the majority of poems, but there are several poems from Australia, the United States and the Czech Republic. It is good to see poets from other countries being given deserved prominence in an otherwise British collection. Most of the poems fit neatly one to a page, with one or two taking up two pages. Janet Murch took the cover photograph for this issue in Toronto.

This is a bright, readable, communicative collection selected, the editors tell us, from over 1,000 poems contributed in this quarter. They also say,

We'll read whatever's sent in — even though one or two, upon having their work rejected, insist on bombarding us with more of the same almost by return of post.

	Tying people up and just leaving them
	Wriggling and writhing on the gallery floor
	Is Blennerhassett's latest creation.

	You may curse life, that it's a dog's

	Isn't it lovely, darling?
	Aren't you glad we came?
	I never thought there were
	so many sorts of red —
	and look darling, look
	how everything sparkles
	in the light.

	Well, maybe it is love, after a fashion.
	I suppose this renders me morally bankrupt.
	Anyone will tell you: one's your ration.
	No further questions, m'lud.

	We dwell in our silences.
	The nurse spots me:
	Get a girl friend,
	You'll die lonely and unbroken.

Iota continues to hit the right notes. It is perfect bound, with 60 pages. Bob Mee mentions how valuable subscriptions are in the editorial, as they are with all poetry magazines and journals. Iota certainly offers value for a small outlay. The standard remains good.

There is a review section at the back and the rest of the pages are given over to poems. Arlene Ang (Italy) gives us LOVE AND BENNY HILL:

	Is it ever enough, you wonder,
	to say I love you —
	your tongue suddenly swollen
	from too much salt
	that it comes out a half-croak 
	muted by tv applause.

	It rained about an hour ago —
	the scent of roses trickles up
	like smoke.  And looking down

	she sees herself asleep:
	her bed at rest in the garden,
	fallen stars of daisies on the lawn

At times, with so many pretty good poetry magazines about, a few will inevitably escape your attention for a while. For me, iota is one. The last issue I read was #31 back in 1995, edited then by David Holliday. Presumably Mee & Murch took over several issues ago, if the standard of selected material is anything to go by, as they skipper a tight crew (you can put your own interpretation on the word 'tight').

iota is a well printed 60 pager. There are over 50 poets with one contribution each, the editors include a diversity of work, the poets come from all over the UK, a handful from the States and Arlene Ang from Italy. The ratio between the sexes is roughly equal (it's good to see a lot of women between one set of glossy covers), and there's a few reviews & listings.

Andy Darlington, Steve Sneyd, Liz Atkin, Carole Bromley, Roger Elkin, Howard Wright, Helen Hail, Michael Newman, Ann Kind, Ian Emberson, Robert Etty and Tony Turner (incidentally Etty & Turner appeared in iota 31) and more. Moira Clark's HANDS (for her father) is poignant without a hint of sentimentality and deserves the accolade of the issue.

All in all iota is an enjoyable read and a mag that I'll be keeping a closer eye on in the future. If you haven't seen this mag (or, like me, haven't seen it for several years) you really ought to send off for a copy.

Not seen this magazine for some time. Reminds me of going into the bank years ago and finding it had been brought up to date. Gone the age old polished wood and the conveniently sited table and chair where you could sit and study your shopping list. All exuding comfort and confidence. Well I may be making a terrible mistake because earlier issues of Iota have gone to Oxfam but I have an idea it used to be safely tucked up inside a plain cover.

Well whether it was or not I find the cover of this issue a bit stomach churning. Seems it has been reproduced from the editor's family archives and we see an elderly couple photographed standing in a cabbage patch. Patronizing. I wouldn't treat my ancestors like that.

When you get inside it would seem a good place to meet and have a chat if you like that kind of thing. When you get past the chat pages at first glance it seems to develop into a volume of collected poems by a single author. (It isn't but it looks like that)

Michael Newman: the poem DROP-OUT I feel is a weak example from this usually good poet. A surprise is Andrew Darlington with his poem THE SHAPE OF CATASTROPHE MODELS/A FIREPOOL OF STARS. Personally I haven't always liked Darlington's work but this is a winner.

A short but very good poem is GRIEF by Gillian Stoneham. An interesting poem which doesn't quite work is YORK MINSTER by Lisa Parry. Another good poem: THE SANDPIPER ADDRESSES GOD by Yvonne Baker.

So there are good ones here, and if a magazine is going to publish 50 pages of poetry in its issue it is never going to have a high percentage of good ones. There are just not enough good poets and good poems to go around. And magazines exist as a place where poets can try out their work. That's what they're for. My verdict is it should be supported. Good value at £2.50.